Welcome Baarish!

She’s finally here. :D

With due pomp and circumstance, due anticipation and due carelessness, expected charm and unexpected addictiveness she’s here.

For those of you who’re too bored with my predictable tri-chotomies, it’s our intensely seductive, oh-so-anticipated new neighbour – the rainy season – I’m talking about.

 “Monsoon.” (Replace with synonym in your mother tongue). What is it, really?

Is it just a welcome shower of relief after the (inevitably) volcanic summer?

Is it the unfortunate result of a gaping hole suddenly driven through the sky?

Is it just one of the innumerable divine punishments for the sins of humanity? (like in Uttarakhand?)

Or is it that time of the year which makes you feel alive again? Is it that pest of a pal of yours who forces your mind off the important stuff and out through the window? Is it that magic potion which acts against your natural instinct of self-preservation and doesn’t let you close the windows at night, ensuring you wake up coughing next morning?

Well, I belong in the fourth group – the “rains make me feel alive again” one. As if you hadn’t figured that out already.

I don’t know about you, but I’m all excited. Yes, in spite of the time and money spent on my daily commute having doubled. I’m fascinated by the mythological tales that surround the Mumbai monsoon. And I’m all geared up for soaking it all up for real this time.

So here’s a big welcome to the pesky droplets, to the addictive grey skies, to the erratic soaking blasts, to the shivers, to the pensive moods. Oh yes. Also to the puddles in the street, to the muck, to the un-usability of public transport, to the late trains, to the cough and cold, and to the utter chaos all around!

Welcome Baarish!!